Title: Mao Fandom: DCU (New Teen Titans before Judas Contract) Summary: The rules keep changing. Pairing: Slade/Dick Warning: Content some readers may find disturbing. Notes: For Katarik, who wanted a story based on this picture. Thanks to her, Ny, and LC for listening, and to DFG and Betty for reassuring me that it's a better story without the stuff that got cut. This day has been a series of stupid mistakes, miscalculations, and missteps. If he hadn't told Donna they were okay without her, if Roy hadn't gotten hit with the flashbomb, if he hadn't gotten tripped up -- If it hadn't been Slade, of all people, and under their defenses -- Then Dick wouldn't be where he is. And he wouldn't have Slade's fingers tangled in his hair, and he wouldn't have a rope around his neck. It's like a leash. More like a leash than Dick even wants to think about, right now. With Slade -- petting him. Petting him is definitely the word, even though he's cleaning a damn gun with his other hand. He's about to tell Slade exactly how long it'll be before Donna or Kory comes and kicks his butt, but when he takes a breath to talk, Slade pulls on the leash and chokes him a little. "Pretty boys should be seen, not heard. I'll deal with you when I'm done." "Wonder Girl will be here any minute," Dick says. Slade tightens the loop around his neck again and he coughs, gasping for breath. "Grayson, you're just not listening. Sit tight." If he manages to get Slade to knock him out, at least he won't have to kneel here being stroked like some kind of bizarre pet. "She'll come," he says, though he doesn't have enough breath to talk, really. Slade sighs and puts the gun down. "You always seem like such a dutiful kid, but I guess everyone's got their limits." He pulls on the leash again, tugging up this time until Dick has to get to his feet -- hard, with his hands cuffed behind his back, but not impossible -- because otherwise he'll completely run out of air, and he's not sure Slade would loosen the damn thing. "You won't get away with this," Dick says with as much vehemence as he can manage breathless. Slade pushes his mask off -- not like Dick doesn't know him, anyway -- and smirks. "You guys always say that. But you know what?" He's got his hand tangled in Dick's hair again, pulling him closer until he can see all the scars on Slade's face. "This time, you're wrong." "They're not going to forget I'm here." "Of course not." Slade shrugs. "But before they get here, you're going to kiss me." Dick stares at him. Slade is only just far enough away that Dick can still focus on him, and this time he's obviously gone off the deep end completely. "I am not." Slade raises his eyebrow. "No? It's such a simple request." He tries to say, "You're crazy," but he's spluttering. "No!" "I'm not saying you've always wanted to -- that would be a bit much, wouldn't it? -- but now is a good time to start." Slade takes one of his gloves off and touches Dick's cheek. He flinches away and gets caught by the damn leash again. Now he's got just enough slack to turn his head. "There's no way I'll kiss you." Slade laughs softly. "And every time you say that, you owe me another before I'll let you go." Dick shudders. "Why?" "Because you lost." Slade runs his thumb, his actual thumb, over Dick's lower lip. "Think of it like a game of Truth or Dare without the part where you get to choose, if that helps." The sound Dick hears is distinctly not Donna breaking through the window or Kory burning through the wall. "Why me?" he tries, instead. Better to stall, avoid outright denials, just in case. "I'm changing the rules," Slade says, sounding impatient. "Every word will cost you another kiss." He runs his fingers through Dick's hair again, and when he speaks, the edge has left his tone somewhat, but not entirely. "You're a good-looking kid. Not so much a kid anymore. And I'm not asking much, here. Four kisses, and you can go wait outside for Starfire." Dick closes his eyes and tightens his hands against the cuffs, but all the compartments on his belt are completely empty at this point, and he can't pick them with his fingers. He bites his tongue against all the things he wants to say or ask and takes a few deep breaths. Then he can't breathe because Slade's choking him again, giving him a narrow-eyed look. "I said I'd let you go. It's the best deal you're going to get, here." Negotiation with psychotics makes things worse. He knows this, knows he's playing into Slade's hands no matter what he does. And he's gasping for air. "Willpower like that," Slade says, as Dick's vision dims a little, "means you're wasted on that team of yours." He loosens the collar enough for Dick to get a good breath. "Do you need a time limit here?" Dick shrugs. Slade laughs and tousles his hair roughly. "I always did like you, kid." There's nothing he can say to that that wouldn't be provocative, and raising his eyebrows is probably lost with the mask. "They don't deserve what they've got." Slade shakes his head. "But you've got a minute before you owe me another kiss. And if you keep me waiting ten, you're going to have to take off those shorts." The rules keep changing. There's nothing to say that Slade won't revise them completely and go back on his already shaky deal, no reason to trust him at all. "Thirty seconds," Slade says, just as Dick's time sense tells him half the minute's gone. Dick braces himself internally and leans in, then kisses him. A peck, as quick and light as he can make it. Slade chuckles. "Nice try, but that'll only get you down one. Try it again and it'll count against you." Dick frowns at him and glowers and has about fifteen seconds left, if Slade's still counting, when he takes another deep breath and kisses him again, lingering this time and trying not to feel stubble and scars and heat, keeping his mouth shut. "Better, but you're still not there," Slade says, and his voice is a little gentler. The softer tone makes everything worse. "I bet that's not how you kiss that gorgeous girl of yours. Go on -- show me." He wants to say something -- anything. If he were really with Kory, he could, but it's too dangerous now. Even trying to get his thoughts in order takes time, and Slade hasn't said what that rule is now. Kissing Slade is nothing like kissing Kory, even the third time, when he makes himself open his mouth and it's wet -- and not as horrible as he was expecting. Not good, not anything he wants, but Slade's not choking him and there's no actual tongue, so he can still breathe. It's more like -- No. It's exactly like kissing Slade against his will, like being choked and coerced by Deathstroke. Who breaks the kiss, laughing softly. "One more try, Grayson, and if you don't get it right this time -- then, well, you know what the terms of escalation are." Dick rattles the handcuffs and Slade shakes his head. "The terms are set. One good kiss -- and that was all I asked, remember -- and I'll take those off you." He doesn't believe it, but he can't say it. He's been stretching his luck all along, and for whatever reason, Slade's let him get away with it, but there's only so far he can push. "Twenty seconds," Slade says, frowning. "You don't want the next --" It takes all the courage he's got to kiss Slade, really kiss him and not run away. Usually kissing people isn't an act of willpower; usually it feels good to let his tongue brush someone's -- Kory's, and god, she's gone through worse than this -- and usually it doesn't make him shiver in fear. The terms shift again when Slade tangles his fingers in Dick's hair with a triumphant noise, more or less a growl. Sometimes Kory bites his lips, even harder than this, but only when she's really -- He pushes away the thought of Slade's more dangerous desires even as he gets pulled into another, deeper phase of the kiss. If he keeps his word, it won't matter what he wants, because Dick's following through with the basic request. There's a little click and his hands are free. He breaks the kiss and says, "There." Slade sighs. "You really should owe me three more of those, you know. And you sure as hell can kiss." Dick takes a step back and pulls off the collar. He knows enough to not say what he's thinking, but it's hard. "You're letting me go, though." "You're a lousy actor," Slade says scornfully. "And you're not even trying to pretend you mean it." "What did you expect?" Dick tosses the leash at Slade's feet and starts chafing his wrists. "You can't force someone to like it." "Of course not." Slade holds out his hand. "Here, kid, let me help you with that." The handcuffs are right there. "I'm fine." He's not fast enough to avoid it when Slade grabs him, though. He's expecting to end up bound on his knees again, or worse, but all that happens is that Slade's rubbing the circulation back into his hand. "This is more efficient." "I'd rather be on the roof," Dick says tightly. "You don't want your stuff back, then," Slade says. He had nothing irreplaceable, and he will have to report this incident in embarrassing detail to Batman whatever happens. Admitting he'd be happier with everything in his pockets would give Slade new leverage. "No, thanks." Dick pulls his hand away. "I'm going to go wait for the Titans." "You might as well relax while you can," Slade says dryly. "When I'm not a hostage, I will." Dick frowns and backs away from him. "Who paid you to do this?" Slade's smile makes his skin crawl. "Now that would be telling, wouldn't it." There must be something horrific going on -- something that maybe he could help the Titans stop, if only he weren't here. "You may as well tell me. Not like we have anything else to talk about." "Oh, now you're wishing you'd drawn it out more?" Slade smiles crookedly at him. "If you're that bored --" Backing away isn't going to get him anywhere safer. He knows it intellectually, but he can't stop himself from moving anyway. "I know you're not amoral," Dick says quickly, using what little protection their shared history can possibly afford. "You wouldn't force yourself on anyone." It makes Slade stop and blink his good eye. "No, and I didn't kiss you, did I." "You left me very little choice," Dick says sharply. "If it makes you feel better to believe that, then by all means, try." Slade spreads his hands. "But you could have waited it out. Hell, you could still be waiting." He smiles. "Aren't you glad you got it over with?" Dick shakes his head. "You kept changing the rules." Slade's right there, close enough to touch his cheek, in one swift movement. "And you had to make the first move, all the way through." "Enough." Dick backs away again. "I'm going to wait for them." "May as well stay in here," Slade says. "After all, they could be on another planet by now, the way your team moves around." The problem of balancing what the dangerous man wants against the safest course of action is getting increasingly complicated. Dick frowns at him. "If you swear not to touch me." Slade holds up his hands. "I wouldn't spit on you if you were on fire, Grayson." Dick takes a deep breath, then lets it out again. "And you're not going to try to touch me." "No. I got my kiss." Slade smiles and backs off two steps. "So I won't teach you anything while we're waiting. Might as well play a few rounds of chess instead." Anything at all could be happening to the Titans. "How much would it cost me to call them and tell them where I am?" He can practically feel Slade's eye on him. "You'd make me go back on my promise not to touch you, then." He shivers and looks at the floor. "The exact price. Please." "Considering how much I've been paid to keep you out of the fighting?" Slade shakes his head. "It's not a price you're going to pay." Dick glares at him. He's almost positive he knows what Slade's going to say, but he needs to hear it. "Let me decide that." Slade shrugs. "True -- by now you're more than old enough to decide if you'll go to bed with someone, aren't you." He can feel himself blush at the thought. "Damn you." "I knew you weren't going to be enthusiastic." Slade eyes him again, then turns away. "So we'll sit and play chess, like civilized people. Because the last thing you want is for the rescue party to show up and find you <i>in flagrante delicto</i>." Dick runs his hand through his hair, trying to think. They'd be disgusted with good cause. They'll be disgusted if they find him here playing games, too, doing nothing at all to fight back. Coerced sex is one thing. Coerced chess is more improbable. "I'm not going to sit around while they're in danger." "Would you rather I tied you up again?" Slade gives him a skeptical look. "I have no particular desire to do that." "I'll fight you." Dick feels the lack of his equipment keenly. Deathstroke's metahuman capabilities will give him an even larger advantage than he normally has. "You can't leave me free if I do." Slade's smile is infuriatingly soft. "This isn't a fight you can win. Sit down." "I can't." Dick falls into a ready stance. This is going to hurt. "If I knock you out, I can use the phone." "If you can find it once you've done that, yes, but you're going to lose." Slade shakes his head. "You'd be better off taking my offer. We'd both enjoy that more, and you'd learn something from it." He shudders again. "You're sick." Slade shakes his head. "Not in this respect, no. I'd rather not knock you down, either." Dick throws a punch at him that doesn't come close to connecting. "Better this than your alternative." "It's a shame, that's all." Slade dodges a kick, two, three. "You didn't even try to negotiate." There's no point in trying to spar with Slade if he's not fighting back. Dick stops moving so quickly. "Knock me out." "And lose the pleasure of your company?" Slade smiles. "You could probably convince me, but you'll have a rough time forcing me." Dick rakes his fingers through his hair again. "Then I won't talk." Slade sighs and folds his arms. "Go on. Make me a counteroffer." "You've set your terms. I'm not interested." Dick picks up the rope Slade was using as a leash. "You may as well restrain me again." "Didn't he ever teach you to bargain?" Slade shakes his head. "I might be willing to accept a lower price for that phonecall." "They'll find me," Dick says, and now he sits down in one of the chairs. Slade gives him a tolerant smile. "Your communicator is in smithereens, kid. It was part of my contract." Dick winces. Added to that difficulty, he has no idea what continent he's on, even if he did get hold of a phone; he spent the trip unconscious. "Kid Flash will get here eventually." "Unless he's on his way to Thanagar or something, sure." Slade takes out a chessboard. "Good to see you trust them." "Much further than I trust you." It makes Slade smile. "Good." He sets the box of chess pieces on the board. "You can call them in a week if you play naked." The thought of being stuck here for a week -- that Slade, who knows the Titans as well as anyone, thinks it's possible -- is terrifying, but Dick is determined not to let it show. "Don't you have more profitable uses of your time than babysitting me for seven days?" "You haven't asked how much I'm getting paid." Slade pushes the white pieces toward him and sets up his pawns. "Short answer -- no." "And given that I might be here for a week, what's the long answer?" Slade tosses a black knight at him and he catches it. "You could be here longer than that. Maybe long enough you'd decide you might as well work with me." "It wouldn't matter if I were here for a year," Dick says firmly. "That would never happen." "That's what you say now." Slade shrugs. "In any case -- there are events you need to miss, out there. You've missed most of them." "Which is why you said I could go." Dick shakes his head. "Where are we?" Slade's smile is sharper this time. "Oh, now you want to go outside." Dick gets up. "Yes." Unless he's in downtown Manhattan, it's unlikely that he'll be able to tell exactly where he is just by looking, but it's worth a try. "Let me find you a hazmat suit, then," Slade says, pushing his chair back. "Why do I need one?" "No reason." Slade spreads his hands. "You could just wear a bikini instead." The apparent non sequitur makes too much sense. "Underground?" "Lead-shielded," Slade says with some satisfaction. "Safe from radiation, and also -- just so you don't forget -- proof against Superman. In case he comes looking for you." Dick rubs his temples. "I want to see for myself." "It's your genes on the line, kid." The thought makes him shudder, just in case he needed any more horror. "I don't have any reason to trust you." "And therefore I could give you a busted suit, too, couldn't I." Slade shrugs. "But you're too cute to die of radiation poisoning, so I won't. C'mon." He leads Dick through three windowless rooms, then unlocks the door to another one where, yes, there are radiation suits hanging from the wall. "It might be bit big -- oh, no, I forget you're grown up, now." "This is all a put-on," Dick says. "We're in Montana or something." Slade shakes his head. "Boy Scout's honor. But you may as well go see." It takes a while to get suited up, and he has to trust Slade to doublecheck the seals for him. It's only mildly reassuring that Slade has to trust him in the same way in order to join him. The ladder to the surface is hard to climb in the boots, and everything sounds very far away. Yelling for help is going to do no good at all unless Slade's lying. Judging by the barren, cratered soil outside and the endless expanse of ocean, he's not. Dick swears inside the privacy of his helmet, says, "Superman, if you can hear me -- it's Robin, I'm on Bikini Atoll, help," and follows Slade back down the ladder into the bunker. He can't possibly swim across the Pacific for help, and almost anything he does will get him in worse trouble. They leave the suits in another lead locker so the radiation can leach out of them. Superman still isn't there by the time they're done putting them away, so Dick stops thinking of him as a possibility. Maybe the Justice League is in a different solar system. Wherever they are, it's too far away to hear. "Got any bargains in mind yet?" Slade asks when they're back in the room with the chessboard. "I'm not going to take off my clothes so I can get out of here in a week," Dick says, answering him sharply. "Five days." Slade grins at him. "Six days for plain old nudity." Dick shakes his head. "Not acceptable." "Hey, I'm getting paid just for arguing with you, so it's up to you, kid. For five days, you'd have to kiss me every day, along with the naked chess." "And I would still be stuck here." Slade sits down in his chair and stretches a bit. "Provided your teammates don't come through with a miraculous rescue, yes." Dick puts his head in his hands and weighs the options. He's pretty sure he can calculate the cost of each successive day, and that the price -- such as it is -- rises exponentially. "How much are you being paid for this?" Dick asks. Slade laughs. "I'm sure you know someone who'd spot you the cash, but I want payment before I let you go anywhere, and that'll be hard to arrange." "And for a phonecall?" "Barter system only, there." Slade puts his feet up on the table. "There are books you can read, if you want. But you're not getting out of here without a rescue party." Dick tightens his hands into fists again. "They could be here any second." "Of course." Slade smiles. "The Teen Titans can do damn near anything, can't they." "Yes." Dick relaxes his hands consciously. "What is there to read?" Sequel 1, by Ny and Petra: In Flagrante Delicto Sequel 2, by Mildred: A Shift of Understanding
	Email the author DCU Story Index